


Moving Upstream

by Eustacia Vye (eustaciavye)



Series: Only Death [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, Historical References, Original Character(s), Prophecy, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2018-05-17 20:28:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5884276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eustaciavye/pseuds/Eustacia%20Vye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hel doesn't like not knowing what's happening, and Helena is just making it all up as she goes along. How could that possibly go wrong?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moving Upstream

In the beginning were four cosmic entities: Infinity and her brother Eternity, creating life, in constant competition with Death and Eternity's son Entropy. Creation vs. destruction, a never ending cycle that led to the creation of the six singularities that over time became the Infinity Stones. They could only be wielded successfully by beings of immense power in themselves. The Celestials were such creatures, as they possessed cosmic power of unknown limits, and used physical shells that looked like armor to contain themselves when interacting with the physical realm. They first wielded the Infinity Stones, using them to fulfill their particular duties. None of the Celestials spoke on their own, using representatives to speak on their behalf. Being so powerful, they existed before the Elders of the universe came into existence. No one knew which Celestial was beheaded in order to create the outpost Knowhere, or even what kind of weapon could create such damage.

Most Celestials were part of myth and legend. They supposedly interfered with the development of life on several different planets, experimenting with genetics and returning every few millennia to evaluate the results of their experiments. The Celestial Wyse was possibly one of those, though his physical body was so massive that he was considered a realm outside of Yggdrasil's connecting reach. Rather than occasionally walking about in a suit of armor, Wyse let untold masses live inside of it.

Hel could easily move between the worlds that Yggdrasil connected, and outside of those realms often could not manifest at all. If she could incorporate the power of another realm, it would expand her reach. The only way to truly absorb Wyse's power and ability would be to completely annihilate it, and she would never be able to do that without the Infinity Stones. Having Selene Gallio's power and ability would make it easier, but it would still be a struggle.

She wasn't interested in a struggle.

Thanos had grown quiet, and she hoped that this meant he was redoubling his efforts to get the Infinity Stones for her. He had lost the one he had, the fool, and the others he might have gotten slipped out of reach instead. Whatever possessed him to give the stone he did have to _Loki?_ Hel didn't believe that Loki was skilled enough at negotiations to manipulate Thanos into handing it over. It had to have been a folly on Thanos' part.

While Hel was glad that Thanos wasn't pestering her, she also found the quiet ominous. Her spies in Helheim weren't reporting on Helena's whereabouts, either, and the tenor of her own Runestaff felt different now. Perhaps her anxieties were being reflected back at her, but reaching into its power no longer felt soothing.

Reaching out, she couldn't sense Helena on Helheim at all. Hel could recognize the feel of the girl's magic, the way it ebbed and flowed and seemed to disappear sometimes. She hadn't wanted to probe Helena's magic too closely, lest it react and try to draw her in. Selene Gallio had been built in such a way, after all, and her flesh was at least half of Helena's makeup.

This didn't make sense. Where could Helena be? She couldn't leave Yggdrasil, and what reason would she have to visit the other realms attached to the World Tree?

Hel paced through her private sitting room within her palace. Her steps were jerky, agitated, and she yanked off her horned helm and threw it across the room. Next came the elaborate hair pins holding her curls in place. She raked her fingernails across her scalp, unraveling the braids and curls, scoring the skin and ripping out chunks. It didn't ease her mood well enough, and yanking out handfuls of her long black hair didn't help, either.

Gouging at her cheeks left flayed, bloody strips hanging down to her neck. Hel's pacing paused in front of the elegant mirror on the wall, its Baroque silver frame seeming to taunt her. It was designed to look like the branches of Yggdrasil itself made up the frame, and the Nine Realms were worked into the pattern of the branches. She could see her eyes above the bloody strips of pale, dead flesh, angry red slashes that didn't drip blood. Dead bodies couldn't bleed, after all, they were full of clotted, dead blood. Decay and rot simmered beneath her skin, and her eyes were dull and filmed over, the haze of death on her.

With a frenzied cry, Hel lashed out and broke the mirror, her hands hooked into loose fists and her fingers curled, acting like claws. The glass shattered, falling to the floor in a shower of shards that sliced her hands and cut into her dress; the spells woven into the spider silk didn't protect her or it from being cut apart by a magic mirror.

The need to destroy rose within her, an impulse she no longer wanted to ignore. She let the rage peak and flow, until it exploded out of her body in a flash of terrible heat and fire. The outer layers of dead skin crisped and burned, falling to the floor in a puddle of ash along with the spider silk dress. Her hair was singed where it hadn't been pulled out or completely burned off, and she dug her hands into her chest, pulling out handfuls of charred, dead flesh and broken bits of bone. Tossing them to the floor in haphazard piles, Hel continued digging until she hit her spine; if she kept going, her fingers would simply slice through the skin at her back and then she would claw at empty air. That simply wouldn't do at all.

Hel pulled back her lips into a snarl when looking back at where her mirror had hung. It was back in place as if it had never been broken, reflecting back the impossibly pale skin, raging eyes and repaired face and hands. The gaping hole that was her chest slowly filled back up, the skin knitting itself back together before her eyes.

This madness hadn't been present before. Or, if it had, it hadn't been so severe. She didn't have to expend magical energies in such silly displays of irrational anger.

Was this what it was to be a mother? Nothing but anger and irrationality? No wonder Natasha Romanoff had wanted nothing to do with it. No wonder her own mother had dissipated rather than begin to guide her in the ways of Helheim. No wonder she couldn't bond with Helena in the slightest, and plotted her destruction.

She let out another scream of anger, hands curling into fists, nails puncturing her palms yet not drawing blood. There was none flowing through her body, after all.

Dead bodies don't bleed. They don't eat, don't feel, don't _need._

Repeating this mantra helped Hel calm down. She was the Queen of the Dead, powerful and immortal, impossible to destroy. She was stronger than these feelings. She was stronger than her impulses. She was stronger than Helena.

If she kept her firm control in place, she could be the strongest creature in all the realms. All she had to do was wait patiently for the Infinity Stones, and then she could break the strictures placed upon her essence and Helheim.

***

Thanos didn't have magic. What he had were minions and such a reputation of power and menace that his name would inspire terror and open doors. He was merciless, humorless, thankless, relentless. 

But what he wasn't, was heartless.

The betrayals he had suffered from those he thought of as allies or his daughters had hurt him deeply. He had other children, all adopted from the worlds he had conquered, none of his blood and bone. Now he didn't trust them, and grew paranoid as he wondered how they too would move against him.

He obviously didn't trust Helena, but their common pain at being ignored by Hel was a bonding point. He was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt at the moment, and grudgingly told her about some of the planets he had razed in Hel's name. Helena was fascinated by the descriptions of them, having never seen them before. There was no seeing them now, and since they weren't tied to Yggdrasil, there was no way to ask the departed souls. That was why Thanos had tried to destroy all those worlds to no avail; Hel couldn't even receive his tributes.

Helena didn't tell him so, since she didn't want the Avengers she had met on Earth to suffer through pain and death. She smiled at Thanos' boasting, and gladly went to the planetoid he used as the training grounds for those he deemed worthy of becoming his children. Quite a few had been salvaged from destroyed planets, and they had to compete for sparse rations and the basic comforts of living. Losers gradually grew weaker, then were culled from the training grounds by more ruthless children. If he set tasks for them to do, he expected them to fulfill them at any cost, even if their lives were forfeit.

She looked at a fallen child with a pained expression. The child was emaciated, the blue of his skin so pale it was nearly white. Cuts and bruises littered the skin she could see, and his clothes were tattered from fighting myriad battles and losing each one. Before Thanos could stop her, Helena darted forward into the training grounds and lifted up the dead boy in her arms. He was nearly her size, all spindly limbs, but she could see how much taller he would have been when full grown, how strong he would have been if properly fed and housed, how hard he would fight if loyalty had been cultivated through love instead of fear.

"Such a waste of a good life," she murmured, and then set the boy onto his feet. "Thialen," she said, a soft smile on her face as she contemplated him. Thanos was approaching, a dark look on his face, but she ignored it. "Wake up. You have so much more that you can do."

Her magic pulsed and pushed its way into the boy. Thialen opened up his green eyes and took a sharp inhalation. As he did, color rushed back into his skin, and Helena pushed a little more magic into him to have his limbs and muscles fill out into the bloom of health. He stood eye to eye with her, staggering back a step as he took another sharp breath in. "Oh." He looked at her in wonder, then lifted his hand in front of him in confusion. "I thought I died."

"You did," Helena replied, her voice bright and pleased. It had worked. She hadn't been sure if it would, but it had _worked._

"But... I don't understand."

"Such a waste of your potential," Helena said as Thanos towered behind her, glowering at them both. She ignored him, though Thialen looked ready to bolt. "I can see how strong you would be, if you only were fed and trained properly."

"My methods breed strong and efficient fighters."

Helena turned and looked up at Thanos as he spoke. "I'm sure you do," she began carefully. "But I see what he can be."

"So?"

"Wouldn't you rather someone who stays with you because they love you?" she asked, softly enough that Thialen wouldn't hear.

Thanos blanched, his hands curling into tight fists at his sides. "You dare—"

"Are we not friends?" Helena asked innocently. "A friend would say such a thing. I think. I don't have friends. But I think a friend would help where possible."

He glowered at her, but finally only said "I have my own methods."

"Oh. Should I not have done this, then?"

Looking at Thialen, Thanos' lip curled derisively. "You may keep him. As a gift, from one friend to another."

Helena smiled brightly at him. "Why, thank you, Thanos. I appreciate it."

That gave Thanos pause, and he stepped away from Helena to go tower over the other potential protégées in the training grounds. Thialen crept closer, eyes wide with shock. "He didn't kill you. Or me. I was dead."

"Yes, you were," Helena replied with a nod as she patted his arm. Perhaps Natasha had a point with saying she didn't know how to speak with the living. Her odd, disjointed way of speaking and approaching them had been off putting. A little more effort, and Thanos had even spoken with her as an equal. Of course, once he stopped and thought about the fact that she had brought a creature back to life in front of him, he would likely want something.

She would deal with that when it happened.

"I don't understand."

Taking his hand in hers, she gave him the same bright smile she had offered Thanos. She was fully aware that it made her look like a pleasant teenager, someone that looked innocent or easy to manipulate. She was determined to be neither, and Helaine whispered in her head that the threads of fate were changing the more moves she made.

At least it wasn't darkness coming to Helheim. That had been Helaine's greatest worry, and Helena was determined not to let that happen.

"Let's just say I have magic. Lots of magic. And I thought it would be nice to have you alive and well, healthy the way you should be."

Thialen looked at Thanos' stiff posture warily, then back at Helena. "What's your role in this?"

"To live," she replied simply, and Thialen nodded. "So you'll stay with me."

"You're... Not like me," he finally said, not sure what else he should have replied.

"No, I'm not. I'm dead. Very much so, always was, but somehow isn't." She smiled at his confusion. "Just... accept it. Your life will be easier that way."

"But what do you want from me?"

"To live." She paused for a moment. "And I think I have the perfect place for you to go."

***

Helena and Thialen appeared in the common areas of Avengers Tower. It was quiet and empty, no one present. "I thought there would be someone here," she mused. "There should have been. There was, the last few times I have visited. I think you would do better here than with Ophelia and Yelena. They would have no use for you, and would likely train you in a manner similar to Thanos." Helena paused as Thialen blanched. "No, perhaps not with starvation and lack of proper housing and heat. But it would be constant, as he trains his future assassins, and I don't think that is a good place for you."

"No," Thialen agreed, shaking his head. "I don't think so, either."

"I think you need family. And there is family here. If they are here."

"If I may interrupt," came an accented voice above them. "I am Jarvis, and believe you to be Helena, based on the sensory data collected at the time of your appearance."

"Yes," Helena replied with a nod, looking around the ceiling. "This is Thialen. He could become a fine warrior if trained properly."

"There was an incident in Sokovia involving Hydra. The entire team except for Steve Rogers had gone to intercept."

"Why not Steve Rogers?" Helena asked, frowning as she tried to remember who that was and why that name was familiar.

"He is in Asgard with his wife as they anticipate the birth of their child."

It snapped back into place for Helena. "Oh! The lovely child and the fates that could become more than possibility. Yes, I remember now." She smiled. "Well. Perhaps I should take you to see how they work, and you tell me if you are comfortable with them," she told Thialen. He gave her a concerned look, not sure what to make of the offer, but Helena didn't really expect him to answer her, anyway.

Sokovia was cold, with snow drifts all around the capital city. People were screaming when Helena and Thialen arrived, and not because they had simply appeared out of nowhere or that he was a tall, spindly creature with blue skin and green eyes. Gunfire in the city square and the roar of the Hulk told them where the Avengers were. Before they took even two steps, a bomb went off and the electricity all around them flickered. Helena could see the faint red glow of magic up ahead, and knew instinctively that it was Loki's apprentice. This had been her homeland, too; she didn't know how she knew that, but she just did.

Taking Thialen's hand, she strode forward heedless of bullets, bomb fragments or fleeing Sokovians screaming in their native tongue. They simply phased right through her and Thialen, who was starting to make sounds of fear deep in his throat. She ignored it, much like she was ignoring the other inconvenient things around her; she told herself this was not acting like Hel, not treating people like replaceable pawns to micromanage and push along a path not of their choosing. She wasn't the same, right?

It was the tail end of the battle anyway; the bomb had been used to cover Hydra's retreat. There were a number of their agents still herding stray Avengers into fights, trying to incapacitate them or knock them out. Helena pointed out all the parties she knew, and she found herself giving him details of their lives and the choices they made to get to this point.

 _One of the quirks of being Hel is knowing about lives and how it will lead to their deaths,_ Helaine whispered in the back of her mind. _You will know this about any and all of the lives connected to the worlds of Yggdrasil. But for the world outside of its reach, you will not know this so easily. Do you know of this boy's life? No. Only when you touched him did you realize the shape of what could have been, and only then because Selene Gallio had taken on the magic of realms outside of Yggdrasil. Your powers have a scope beyond what the current Hel has, and you know for a fact she wants them._

Helena looked at Thialen's stunned expression. "This is too much, isn't it?" she murmured. "It's not helping you make a choice."

"No, it isn't," he murmured, voice warbling. "The only thing I know for sure is that you saved me from Thanos, and you have power over Death."

She bit her lip uncertainly. "Not exactly."

"I'd rather stay with you."

Startled, Helena nearly dropped his hand. That would have been fatal, given the stray gunfire still present. "But I live in the realm of the dead. I learn magic from dead practitioners." She frowned at him. "You're alive now, Thialen. I have no means to care for you properly."

"But you could. I know _you,_ as odd as you are, and I don't know any of them," he said, pointing to the throngs of fighters.

 _He has a point,_ Helaine told her in an amused tone. _So make your decision._

Sighing, Helena stepped forward and through space and time into Helheim. "This is my home, Thialen," she told him, still gripping his hand tight. The living didn't fare well in Helheim if left to their own devices. "I didn't save you just to have you die here. I live with the dead. I am neither living nor dead. I couldn't train you. I don't know how."

"We could figure out something, couldn't we?" he pleaded. "I don't want to go anywhere with a bunch of strangers. Not again."

Because the last time he had, it had been to Thanos' training grounds, and he had died there.

Helena frowned, not ready to let go of Thialen yet. "This is the land of the dead. As you are right now, if you come into contact with the dead, they would strip your soul from you, killing you all over again." Thialen blanched, and looked at her with a desperate expression. "There are ways to protect you, to seal your soul inside your body. Most of them are temporary, and it's how Hel was able to have Natasha visit. If I could make it permanent..."

Thialen was about to ask her to do it when she reached over and touched the center of his chest with the tip of her finger. She sketched out a complex pattern of runes, frowning in concentration as she did so. Helaine was silent, as if waiting with bated breath to see what happened with this experiment. Helena blocked everything out, and poured her intent into the runes the way Karnilla had taught her to. They began to glow, and Thialen kept his mouth shut even though he was clearly frightened of it. Smart boy.

The colors of the runes were primarily blue and gold, which was the way of Asgardian magic, life and death and altering the _spá._ She wasn't aware of the way her eyes seemed to glow a reddish gold, the cast to her features taking on a ruddy complexion. Thialen held himself so still, a rabbit scented by a fox, eyes wide and breath still in his chest.

And then the magic sank into him in a flare of white light.

He screamed, poor boy, and Helaine remained watchful and silent, waiting to see if the magic would take. Could she infuse a piece of Yggdrasil magic into one not connected to it? Could she change the fabric of this boy's life again?

His blue skin flared white-gold, his wide eyes entirely white. The magic lifted him off of his feet, and Helena let go of his hand. She could feel the dead of this realm, the press of souls layered over each other, a chill along her skin as they waited to see what happened to Thialen. One of the shadows drifted closer than the others, features drawn in curiosity. As soon as she saw the long white beard and wizened features, Helena smiled, recognizing him as Väinämöinen.

"What have you done, child?" he asked her, his voice like the breezy rasp of dead leaves over cobblestone paths.

"I didn't give Thialen life just to have him die here," she replied, feeling a little defensive.

"You upset the natural order of things," he told her, disapproval in his voice.

"The natural order would have Ragnarok come and destroy all the branches of Yggdrasil," she challenged as the glow began to fade from Thialen's body. She held out her hand and grasped his limp one, guiding his feet back down to the ground. "I don't wish for more destruction. I don't wish for death."

"That would be chaos, if none would die."

She recalled that Väinämöinen brought Order out of Chaos, Creation out of the Abyss. He created the first kantele, or magical harp of the Finns, and was regarded as the first consciousness and willpower of the universe. Of course he wouldn't like how Helena wanted to upset the natural order of things, even if it was to prevent destruction of the realm his soul inhabited.

"There will be death," she corrected, waiting for Thialen's eyes to reopen. "There will always be death, there will be order and chaos in appropriate amounts." She grinned when Thialen opened his eyes and took a ragged breath; she could feel the way his soul was anchored to his flesh, tied to it so tightly that it would take willful acts of magic on her part to unravel it.

She had essentially created a Celestial.

"But not today," she told Väinämöinen, triumph in her voice. "Not for Thialen. He chose to live here with me, and now he can."

Väinämöinen frowned at her, but then cast his gaze toward Thialen. "The living should not be with the dead. Their very natures are diametric opposites."

"They are now one in him," Helena said sweetly giving his hand a squeeze. "He can train with our warriors even as I train in controlling magic, and we can determine the best way to save the worlds of Yggdrasil from Ragnarok."

Helena was pleased with those words, and even Väinämöinen seemed to pause. "Karnilla spoke highly of you, of how eager you are to learn. The seers of the webs..." He frowned a little deeper, then shook his head. "It matters not. There are too many different ways that the future may come to us, and different verses to the songs of time."

"May I learn them from you?" Helena asked eagerly, eyes bright with hope.

He pursed his lips for a moment, then stepped forward and touched Thialen. The boy looked at him, confused, and then at Helena as if asking for clarity. "I cannot touch his spirit. Your work is very good, Helena," Väinämöinen declared after a moment. "In life, I was strong and gifted with a sword as well as my kantele. I would train you both, if only to keep an eye on the progress you make as you move through this realm."

"Thank you," Helena told him, beaming like a small child given a precious gift.

Thialen merely gulped; a sword had pierced his gut, and he wasn't overly fond of them as a result of that. "If you think that's best," he said finally.

"Conquer your fears, child," Väinämöinen said dispassionately. "It may not be your weapon of choice, but it requires strength of body, clarity of mind and discipline. Once you have that groundwork, we can discuss weapons better suited to you."

He heaved a sigh, but nodded. He'd insisted on following Helena, after all, and would have to follow the training schedule she and her people decided.

Grasping Thialen's hands, Helena grinned and squeezed them tightly. "We're going to do great things, Thialen," she assured him. "I know it."

"If you say so," he said dubiously, but fell into step beside her when Väinämöinen gestured for them to move to a separate area to begin training.

"How bad could it be?" Helena replied lightly.

Thialen managed not to groan or pull away. Young as he was, he knew there was always something worse in the universe than death.

***

Hel glowered at the web in the heart of the castle. Some of the seers weren't present, even the ones that normally bound themselves within the threads. She had felt something shift in her realm earlier, but didn't know what it was.

Not knowing what it was rankled fiercely. This was _her_ realm, she should have known every last moment and every soul's knowledge. She should have been able to recognize the flow of magic, but it had felt utterly alien.

"Something troubles you," Cassandra said, opening her eyes and brushing the webbing from her face. She smiled, her lips full of secrets and lies, and her eyes glittered like distant stars. "What is it, my Queen?"

"What do you know?" Hel snarled.

"I know many things," Cassandra replied, sarcasm in her tone. "Could you be more specific?"

Reaching out in her direction, Hel lifted Cassandra bodily from the web with magic, leaving the shredded remains behind. Some of the spiders along the strands scurried away, and other seers turned their bound faces away. She could see that one of them actually pulled the sticky webbing over his face so that he wouldn't have to bear witness.

Cassandra didn't struggle, and didn't break eye contact with Hel. The proud, sarcastic smile was gone, but she didn't beg, plead or snivel. She was every inch the princess she had been once upon a time, and treated Hel as one. Hel appreciated the dignified response, and could respect it. What she didn't appreciate was that Cassandra obviously knew what was happening in her realm and didn't tell her. Any of the other seers could possibly take on this sign of rebellion and perpetuate it, and Hel _could not allow it._

"I could peel the layers of flesh from your bones to get the secrets you hold," Hel said in biting tones. In perfect counterpart to her words, the skittering of the spider legs along the webbing sounded like the ticking of a clock.

"You could not read the pattern of silence and sound," Cassandra replied without fear.

"You don't fear the punishment I would rain down upon you," Hel observed.

"I'm already dead. I've endured tragedies and pain untold and innumerable. No, I don't fear your punishments, my Queen. If anything, I would welcome them."

Hel's fingers twitched, and Cassandra's eyes flew out of their sockets and into the palm of Hel's hand. "I will uncover what you have seen, Cassandra."

"Please do," Cassandra replied, smiling as blood streamed down her face.

"You think to destroy me," Hel said, closing her fist around the bloody eyes.

Cassandra laughed, a pleasant and delighted sound. "Oh, my Queen. I have no need for such petty moves. I've seen far too much, too many possibilities. If you could stem the tide as you search for clues that cannot be found... By all means, think me traitor to the realm. Think I do nothing but harm. I will deny nothing, aid in that belief, and let myself be buried within the heart of the Runestaff if it pleases you."

The eyes sank into the flesh of Hel's palm, and she opened both her hands. Holding them up, eyes opened in the center, blinking and staring out at the webbing. They were Cassandra's eyes, taking in the view. Flashes of different futures skittered across Hel's mind, blurring in a frenzy of color and a cacophony of sound. Staccato jabs of images pierced her mind, painful shards, the kind of memories that would only lead to insanity in the mind of a lesser being.

Hel saw Helena sitting and smiling by one of the rivers of Helheim, a globe of light hovering above her cupped hands. Why would this hurt so much? Why would it matter if she could master a simple light spell?

"Souls are bright, such changeable things. Look and watch," a raspy voice said. Hel couldn't place it, couldn't figure out why this was important to see, why Helena's happiness would rankle so, why it would burn her from the inside out to know that Helena could craft something so simple yet pure.

_Let there be light._

Misery shot through Hel, though she couldn't have said why. She felt as though this was too private a moment to see, that it would hurt Helena in some way. It didn't matter if Hel wanted to take Helena apart, this still _hurt._

She blamed it on Cassandra's gift. Its light was too blinding, too difficult to harness. _But the light will display the darkness, reveal it for what it is._

The darkness lived inside of Hel. It wasn't Helena's blackened, sickly heart.

"Take these back!" Hel screamed, throwing the eyes back at Cassandra. They flew across the space and snapped right back into her head. The bloody tracks down her cheeks mocked Hel, looking like thick red tears, and Cassandra only smiled. "What?" she asked her irritably.

"No one wants to be a seer, you know. We don't ask to be cursed in such a way."

Gritting her teeth, Hel brought her hands down swiftly. The sympathetic magic had Cassandra slam back into the web, right in the same spot that Hel had ripped her out. The force of it sent spiders flying across the space, falling down into the abyss beneath the web. Hel ignored the fearful screeching and glared at Cassandra.

"You won't find the answers you seek here, my Queen," Cassandra told her with a smile. "The answers were never here. They were never trapped within the web or wound through the roots and branches of Yggdrasil. Answers lay beyond all that."

"Meaning?" Hel demanded angrily. "Tell me plain."

"There is more than Yggdrasil. Outside its scope begins the slow birth of time and eternity, of power and magic beyond reckoning." Cassandra smiled as she sank into the webbing, as its tattered edges fell over her and sealed, burying her within its sticky mass.

Hel wanted to rip Cassandra apart, but that wouldn't help matters. Many of the other seers that Hel usually conversed with weren't present. Why was that? Why couldn't she feel them in her own realm? What secrets did they hold?

This was _her_ realm. _Her_ power.

Yet larger and larger parts of her realm were being hidden from her view. She had no idea what was going on or if Helena was involved, but she endured the uncertainty for far too long.

Time to start hunting Helena.

The End


End file.
